Thursday, July 25, 2013

#593

(image by Egle Vismantaite)

Eu sou Frida.
O destino me prendeu à cama
para que não pudesse voar.

Primeiro
desmontou-me
como um rádio quebrado.

Os pedaços perdidos
tornaram-me 
uma canção impossível.

Eu, que sou feita de
carne e desejos,
fui mergulhada em clorofórmio,

embalsamada
e colocada num sarcófago
por um mês.

A morte dançou em torno
de mim tantas vezes
sem explicar porque fui poupada.


I am Frida.
Destiny nailed me to bed
so I could not fly.

First
it dismantled me
like a broken radio

lost pieces
made me into an
impossible song.

I, who am made of
flesh and wishes,
have been chloroformed

embalmed
and put in a sarcophagus
for a month.

Death danced around me
so many nights, I wish he
explained why I was saved.

2 comments:

  1. As soon as I saw your picture - I thought of my favourite Frida Kahlo painting. Your words are a wonderful abstraction of her movement - especially the idea of dismantling, since so many portraits seemed to be about finding out who she was.

    Magnificent poetry.

    ReplyDelete

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